


Fire! (Behind the door: day 14)

by DoctorBilly



Series: Behind the door: Advent calendar2014 [14]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 11:16:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2771009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorBilly/pseuds/DoctorBilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 14 of my Advent Calendar for 2014. Prompts are from locations behind the <a href="http://www.safestyle-windows.co.uk/secret-door/index.html">Secret Door</a></p><p>Sherlock and John prepare for Christmas</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire! (Behind the door: day 14)

**Author's Note:**

> Some of these prompt locations are very hard to include. The connection to this one is a little tenuous…
> 
> If the image doesn't show on your device, you can see it [here](http://doctor-billy.tumblr.com/post/105169653278/behind-the-door-day-14-a-and-c-hamilton-musical)

 

"What is it?"

"It's a surprise, Sherlock."

"I don't like surprises…"

John sighs. He has managed to keep this particular surprise hidden for several months, but once the Christmas tree was properly up, he hadn't been able to resist adding his gift to Sherlock to the small pile of brightly-wrapped presents underneath it.

It had been a struggle to get a tree at all. He recalls the arguments about 'pagan midwinter rituals' with a grimace. Eventually, he had gone out the weekend before Christmas and bought a tiny potted spruce, pre-decorated with artificial snow and holly berries. Sherlock had huffed and moaned and eventually allowed the tree to be put on a low table near the fireplace, where it had promptly caught fire.

It was a whole day before John was able to think clearly about the incident. It came to him while he was cleaning the last of the soot off the ceiling with a long-handled brush, water running up his sleeves and ruining his jumper. Sherlock had been very handy with the fire extinguisher. " _Too handy"_ , John had thought. " _Almost as if he expected it to catch…_ "

The resulting row had been epic. Sherlock had sulked and slammed out of the flat, and had stayed out for hours. Eventually, Lestrade, looking like a lumberjack with a Norway spruce on his shoulder, had brought him back, still sulking, but carrying a beautifully wrapped parcel.

Lestrade had commandeered an enamel bucket from Mrs Hudson and had propped the tree up in it, in a corner well away from the fire, and with water in the bucket to keep the needles fresh.

John had spent a few hours the next afternoon going around the charity shops, looking for ornaments. In Marylebone market, he had found some glass instruments, trumpets, drums, a violin. Sherlock had approved of these, and had hung the little violin on a top branch, higher than John could reach.

There was to be no tinsel on this tree. Sherlock had banned it absolutely. They bought new strings of lights, and on Christmas Eve, John had come home from the clinic to find that Sherlock had made tiny accordion-folded baubles from music stave.

 

*********

 

"How long do I have to wait? Surely Christmas Eve is a traditional time to open gifts?"

"No, Sherlock. You can wait till tomorrow."

Sherlock sulks just enough to not lose face, then sets to work mulling wine. The resulting concoction is strong, warming and delicious, and both men drink enough of it to make them doze off while watching the Nine Lessons and Carols on television.

 

*********

 

John wakes a little chilly. The fire has gone out, and dawn light is beginning to creep into the room. Sherlock is still asleep, snoring gently on the sofa. John covers him with a throw blanket and sets to work making up the fire again. Eventually, Sherlock wakes and stretches.

"Good morning, John."

"Morning, Sherlock. I'll make tea. What do you want for breakfast?" "

Not hungry. Perhaps a biscuit?"

John brings tea cups in, and goes back for the tin of shortbread that his clinic receptionist had given him.

"Presents now?"

John smiles. Sherlock is like a six-year-old sometimes.

"All right."

There are Christmas hats and scarves for both of them from Mrs Hudson. John puts his on immediately, and after a bit of sulking, Sherlock dons his, too.

Lestrade has given John two paperback Scandi crime thrillers he hasn't read yet, and for Sherlock, he has managed to find a jar of old-fashioned sweets; butterscotch, humbugs, cough candy twists. Sherlock is very happy with this. He has a very sweet tooth.

From Molly, there is a joint "house" present. A glass jelly mould in the shape of a brain.

John laughs.

"I'll make you a pink blancmange in it for your birthday."

"Open mine, John."

Inside the wrapping is a new jumper, almost identical to the one that John had ruined with sooty water after the fire.

"It's cashmere…"

"Yes. Cashmere is warmer than wool. And less scratchy. I am sorry I burned your tree, John."

"It's a very nice jumper, Sherlock. Thank you."

John lets Sherlock's apology slide over him. He doesn't want to rehash the incident. There is no point in over-examining Sherlock's childish episodes. Better to just move on.

Sherlock opens John's parcel.

"It looks like rosin…"

"Smell it."

John smiles as Sherlock sniffs at the brownish-yellowish lump of something.

"Incense? Am I meant to burn it?"

"No! No more burning things." John smiles. "You were right the first time."

"Rosin? But what is the perfume? Wait…" He closes his eyes for a few moments, searching his memories. " _Frankincense_. Very appropriate, John. A gift from a wise man. Where did you get it?"

"Lancashire, bizarrely. Do you remember I went up for a conference in the autumn?"

"Yes. Epidemiology, as I recall. Boring."

"Yes. It was, so I snuck off early. I had to pass the music shop on my way to the station."

"And you thought of me."

"Yes. I do quite often, you know."

"I know. Thank you."

 

**Author's Note:**

> This could be Johnlock if you have the right glasses on.


End file.
